


le quattro stagioni

by flamingosarepink



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst mixed with happiness!!, Everyone is happy Leo is back, Juventus Turin, M/M, Post Leo returning feels, Songfic, There's Leo/Paulo if you squint, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingosarepink/pseuds/flamingosarepink
Summary: Turin is home. Milan never was.





	le quattro stagioni

**Author's Note:**

  * For [selenedaydreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/selenedaydreams/gifts).



> I wrote a fic about when Leo left, so now I'm writing the fic about when Leo returns.

There is something about way the tunnel feels that day on his first match back with Juventus that feels outlandishly dreamlike, as if the fact Leo is back here is but a figment that only his mind could have painted in an attempt to satisfy the part of him which felt homesick for everything the club encompasses, city of Turin included. 

_You might regret this,_ Gigi had said plainly that day on one of the last days Leo had spent in the cloud-like and blissful comfort of his bed before his transfer was announced. _Are you sure this is the road you want to go down?_ It was a question to which Leo had no reply; watching his lover do up the buttons on his white dress shirt from his place in the bed, covers barely covering his torso. The silence that stood between them said all it needed to, with the look in Leo's eyes affirming it.

_I regret nothing._

As true as that might have been at the time, it was no longer true as the year went on. Anger had only clouded his judgement, and true to Gigi's word he had regretted it. But if he was honest when was there a time when Gigi had never been anything but right? 

In his whole season long sojourn, when had Milan ever felt like home? They had accepted him as one of their own. They welcomed him to this club with a history all its own. There are thoughts going back to the goal scored against Juventus last season in the Coppa, when he had a duty to the club in which he found himself represented- home or not. It was a duty that he honored regardless.

The sound of the supporters, as grand as he remembers, greets him with a chorus of deep rumbling boos. If those boos existed to make him feel the emotions of shame and guilt over ill made decisions, it does the opposite. Ill made, unwise. Yet here he is back on the team of the club that he loves. Things have changed so little, yet so much since his return. New teammates, and teammates departed whose presence he finds himself missing for the sake of familiarity and otherwise. 

Leo fits back into the scheme of things with ease, the season new and bringing the promise of a great year ahead. He accepts every boo and every whistle, powered to go on by a sense of doing right by the shirt- by the hunger to win and nothing else. Everything falls into place once he steps into old routines again but he finds part of himself wishing that Gigi was still here; imagining the look on his face at the thought of knowing that he was right the whole time in some way despite knowing how Leo feels sorry about it now. If Gigi had this look during their talks on the phone, Leo would never know. But sometimes you don't have to see the face of the other person to know that you are having the same singular thought.

Now is not the time to dwell on the past. Keep the past close to remember later when times are different. 

Already, times are different when Cristiano arrives. The sessions /feel/ different. It would be anything but the truth to say otherwise. The Juve of now is not the Juve that Leo left behind. Cristiano Ronaldo. Five Ballon d'Ors, 670 senior goals for club and country, 5 Champions Leagues. But this is not Madrid, singling out one man as the most important above all others. This is Juventus, stronger together. Working as one perfect unit. Madrid talisman or not, nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is deserved, or promised. In Leo's thoughts, the words of Barza are a constant: 'In the end, only results will matter.' 

When it is that time of the Summer closer to the side of Fall people start talking about the Champions League again; having easily forgotten the World Cup. The one Italy didn't qualify for. It was hard not to hear about the woes of another failed campaign, another year of work wasted. He wasn't there, but Leo remembers the last one before that. Oh does he remember, unable to truly ever forget it. 

Working harder. Enduring. Feeling the dull ache in your muscles and pushing yourself that small bit further. Maybe this year, finally. Everyone whispers in the cafes and quiet peace of dinner conversations at home. People are free to dream as they please, but this is the not the stage in Leo's career where he thrives on dreams. 

He thrives on doing. He thrives on feeling the coldness of the metal trophy in his hands and sound of his teammates cheering around him in the deafening roar of the stadium filled with Juventus faithful. Even if they shouldn't have an expectation, that same expectation settles deep in the heart of every player on the team. It's an expectation which Leo holds close along with the feeling of disappointment from the last time and the times before that. 

But the urge to win the trophy that has escaped them in the most disappointing of ways over the past few years reflects in the first matches of their league campaign. There is a vibrancy. A passionate intensity that doesn't seem to ever stop at any moment. Sure, there are moments of weakness but they counter. To put it simply, there is no just giving up. Making the same mistakes cannot happen.

After the match, Paulo kisses him in the darkness of the locker room once everyone has filtered out. Skin still damp from showering. Hastily dried. _I missed you,_ it seems to say with a bit of a desperate air. _You were gone far too long._ Leo cant find it in himself to disagree with that sentiment. 

A welcome consequence of his return to Turin are his nights out with Andrea and Giorgio at their usual restaurant of choice. Favorite vintages of wine are drank, favorite dishes are eaten mixed with laughter and great conversation. At some point a toast is made to Leo's return. "A toast to the end of Leo's season long vacation. He finally came to his senses." Leo can't help but hide his face and stifle a laugh that finds its way out into the open world as Barza lightly but teasingly shakes his shoulder. Giorgio is laughing too, smiling even. He is glad that they can laugh about it now.

Later on, he finds himself drifting off in the comfort of the latter's guest bedroom. Familiar. Warm. Happy. In the city that he loves, that has a place in his heart forever. 

Turin is home. Milan never was.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while listening to Vivaldi's wonderful series Le Quattro Stagioni- also known as The Four Seasons. Each piece of music was inspiration for an emotion felt in the fic by the various different persons at play. I hope it was an enjoyable read!


End file.
